


Tastes Like Burning

by wickedblackbird



Category: Fright Night (2011)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 11:43:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedblackbird/pseuds/wickedblackbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Survivors and absinthe kisses. </p><p>(written for the Kink Meme at frightnight2011 on LJ)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tastes Like Burning

When you wake up from having nearly sacrificed your life to save your girlfriend, the last thing you really expect is to be kissed by an insane Englishman (Scotsman, Peter will later complain indignantly, but who listens to him anyway). 

Honestly, a kiss from said girlfriend would be higher on the list.

Still, that is exactly what happens. The kiss is fast and impulsive and born of relief. It tastes like burning (which Charlie will eventually come to realise is the taste of absinthe and cigarillos, but at the moment is just another reminder that he killed a fucking vampire while on fucking fire). Peter Vincent is oddly tactile, and a kiss is his automatic reaction to Charlie being alive.

Amy follows it up with one of her own, and it's exactly the hero's reward that it ought to be. Her kiss is sweet and deep and tender, threaded through with relief and devotion. In other words, it's perfect. It feels like a dream.

When Charlie does dream the scene, however (over and over and over again in the coming weeks), it's Peter's kiss that takes on a life of its own. His mind replays the soft scratch of stubble, the quick press of lips, the ragged breath. It's strange that, of all moments from that insane evening, he keeps winding up back at that one.

Eventually, he finds himself at Peter's flat at two in the morning - confused and tired and more than a little curious. Peter doesn't ask questions, just pours another glass of absinthe. The two of them proceed to get completely pissed. Because, really, it's no stranger than anything else they've done together. And, really - who's going to bust him about being underage when he's just saved Las Vegas from vampires?

"Here's to surviving and taking the fuckers down," Peter slurs eventually, holding his glass up in a sloppy toast.

Charlie echoes the motion, and they both toss back their drinks. Liquid fire burns down his throat and settles in his belly, and Charlie gasps.

"It tastes like burning," he tells Peter, and starts to laugh.

"It does at that," Peter agrees, head lolling idly until he's looking at Charlie again. He grins. "Good burning, though."

Then, he kisses him. And it feels so very, very real.

It still tastes like burning. But, Charlie thinks he is beginning to really like fire.


End file.
